


That escalated quickly

by electricblueninja



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Awkward, Complicated Relationships, Confused Himchan, First Time, Light Bondage, M/M, Second Person, Tie Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2706275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricblueninja/pseuds/electricblueninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bang Yongguk and Kim Himchan complicate their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I only own my imagination

'Suck a dick, Yongguk.'

When you had said that this morning, it had been out of sheer annoyance, your irritation amplified by morning and a considerable sleep deficit. You had been provoked, too: Yongguk had used the last of the milk, plucking the carton right out of your hand just as you aimed it at your cornflakes.

So although it had been strong language for six thirty in the morning, it hadn't been completely unwarranted.

Fourteen hours later, your day had not improved. Junhong had been whiny, Daehyun had been impatient, and Yongguk had been his usual incorrigible, oblivious and immature self. Practice was finally over, you had eaten just as much takeaway naengmyeon as you'd had the energy to fork into your face, and now, having somehow triumphed in the shower battle, you had collapsed in the room you shared with Yongguk and closed your eyes on the world. You were so tired that you slipped into sleep straight away, even with the lights on.

You had no idea what time it was when you woke. It was dark, though. Dark and warm. But something was a little off.

You couldn't move your arms. Or legs.

'Yonggukkie hyung?' you said to the darkness, and were slightly unnerved to hear a low chuckle -- from above you -- in response.

It occurred to you suddenly that the combination of warmth and immobility was not a coincidence.

Yongguk was sitting on you.

'I knew you'd wake up before I finished,' said Yongguk, his voice deep against the soft, silky sound of synthetic material against synthetic material. Both sounds were accompanied by a sudden tightness around your wrists, which were folded neatly over your chest.

Your brain vied with your senses for a moment. It seemed ridiculous and highly improbable. But you couldn't move your hands.

'Hyung...have you tied me up?'

_I'm dreaming._

Yongguk laughed, the sound echoing through your skin and into your body. 'Yep. I did.'

_I'd never dream this._

'What the hell, hyung? If this is a joke, it's not funny. Get off. I'm trying to sleep.'

'No joke. I gotta make you behave somehow.'

'Make me behave? Hyung -- '

'What'd you say to hyung this morning, Himchan?'

'I...okay, I'm sorry for swearing, hyung. Now get off me.' You knew it was futile, but you squirmed under Yongguk anyway, hoping that you'd get the point across: this was uncomfortable. And a little bit gay.

But if anything, Yongguk seemed...pleased by your discomfiture. A sneaking suspicion crept like a ninja into the fringes of your awareness, hiding there, smiling at you.

'Not how you said it. What you said.'

Then blind panic set in. You knew, because you could hear yourself laughing nervously, but all you could feel was a tight ball of anxiety wedged in your gut. 'Don't know. Don't know what I said, but - '

'Shut up, Himchan.'

Yongguk told you to shut up all the time, and you never did. It was actually the sudden realisation that the press against your stomach was not fingers that stunned you into silence.

Your brain started clicking over like a motor that couldn't start: going a mile a minute, but unable to process what was happening.

‘Hyung, I -- ‘

‘No, really, shut up. They’re not thick walls. Don't want to wake the kids up.’

Yongguk shifted his weight, sliding down your legs and straddling your shins. Long, warm fingers curled around your hips, and you could feel the warmth of Yongguk’s exhalation through the cotton of your boxers. Your stomach twisted, and you was horrified to find that your physiology disagreed with your psychology about the situation you were facing. You twitched. Yongguk knew; his face only centimetres from your groin.

He huffed his amusement.

‘Himchan, Himchan, Himchan,’ he said, tutting like a hyung should, only you could’ve sworn you heard him smile. ‘You should've been more careful with your command, _dongsaengie_.’

You felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. This was embarrassing beyond description. This was humiliating in every possible way. And Yongguk knew, fuck him, he knew and he was doing this on purpose. Some kind of messed up status reclamation.

You felt Yongguk’s fingers slide under the waistband of your boxers, pulling downwards slowly. You pressed your butt and your back flat against the mattress, resisting with all your might. But although you were heavier than Yongguk, with your hands and feet bound and Yongguk’s weight preventing you from bending your knees, you couldn’t do enough to prevent yourself from being stripped.

You didn’t want to see, but still you looked down instinctively. A half-light was beginning to seep in through the window, glittering in the platinum blonde of Yongguk’s hair and glinting in his big dark eyes. His lips curled into a smile as he stooped his head to kiss the tip of your cock, his fingers pale where the tips splayed into the dark curls of your pubic hair.

It...wasn't what you had expected him to do.

The ninja in your brain told you it was kind of hot, but even the subconscious thought made you feel ill, and you tore your eyes away, squeezing them shut. Something like if you couldn't see it, it wasn't happening, although this was clearly flawed logic, because it was your own hips that jerked violently as a hot, wet tongue traced the underside of your dick.

You heard your breath hitch; felt your blood begin to flow southwards; saw sparks behind your eyelids as the pressure on your cock went from the slow stroke of a slick tongue to total engulfment by a wet hot mouth. And Yongguk, no hesitation: he sucked right in, his lips tight around the shaft of your cock and his tongue curling beneath it, undulating softly as it flexed, testing for your reaction.

You, by contrast, bit down on your lip and tried desperately not to react, even though it was far, far too late.

Yongguk drew back lazily, eyelids fluttering in...what...enjoyment? His lips puffed up in a fat pout as he lowered his head again.

He moaned as he did so, the reverberations rolling like waves down the length of your shaft, and you properly turned into a hard, throbbing mess. Your brain wondered when you'd started watching again and how the fuck you were going to look away now, because you still felt ill but Bang Yongguk looked kind of good with his huge mouth full of dick. Your body just trembled; arousal looping through your stomach like an elastic band that had been stretched to breaking point and snapped.

Yongguk sensed the difference and, through the careful application of his tongue, made it worse. Or better. You were losing track of your own opinions now. Not to mention your hips, which snapped up into Yongguk's waiting hands as Yongguk's teeth lightly grazed your skin.

Apparently, this was all part of his plan, because he looked up, met your eyes, let go of your dick with a little pop, and grinned.

A warm hand snaked between your thighs, fingertips fondling your balls with cruel, deliberate gentleness.

'Oh, Himchan,' said Yongguk, 'what am I gonna do with you?'

The feral grin stretched wider as you whimpered. The twisted feelings in you gut had gone from nausea to lust, and all you could bring yourself to do was push your hips ever so slightly towards Yongguk's smiling lips, holding his gaze and pleading with your eyes.

Bang Yongguk, still smiling, shook his head ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow. His fingers moved from your balls to wrap tightly around the base of your dick, and it hurt. 'Ask nicely, Kim Himchan,' he murmured, his breath ghosting over the tip of your throbbing cock, and your humiliation was complete.

'Please...'

'Please what?'

'I...want...'

'Be specific, big dongsaeng.'

'Yongguk, suck my dick. Please.'

'Good.'

He guided your cock back into his mouth with a gentler grip, and you felt his throat squeeze tight around you. You was kind of impressed, actually: Yongguk took you all in, the only sign of his exertion the delicate flare of his nostrils as he steadied his breathing. But he knew you were close to the edge, and as soon as you began to buckle underneath him he drew back enough not to choke when you came, messy and a little loud, in his mouth.

You collapsed into your bonds, your head tipped back against the mattress, dazed.

After a moment, you glanced down to watch as Yongguk, trails of cum at the corners of his devil smile, relinquished your cock and patted your thigh, wiping his mouth on the back of the other hand.

'Next time, Channie, just ask nicely.'


	2. Being chicken and counting sheep

It was waking up the next day that was the hard part.

 

Gukkie-hyung had untied you and then left the room, leaving you to pull your boxers back up and contemplate your humiliation. You’d heard the shower running, because the walls were thin, and it made you think that if any of the kids were awake, they’d have heard you just now. They wouldn’t have known what was going on, with any luck, but they still would’ve heard you, and you knew what had happened, and it was going to be hard to look any of them in the eye again for a while.

 

Especially Yongguk.

 

A vivid, monochromatic, moonlit image of his face, his eyes closed and his lips around your cock, flashes unbidden into your mind. It’s accompanied by an avalanche of unwelcome emotion: an explosion of anger, hate, fear, shame, affection and lust. You don’t know what to do with it, so you roll over and punch your pillow a few times, fighting back the same tears that had threatened before, only this time they’re so much closer to spilling over that after a couple more furious blows you bury your face in the soft blue cotton and let a couple sneak out. Just a few.

 

But they dry up quickly and leave you feeling hollow.

 

Then you roll over onto your back again. Your left hand falls onto the necktie Bbang bound your wrists with, and your fingers run idly along the silky material as you lie there and try not to think or remember.

 

You're still there doing that when Bbang comes back. He looks at you, but you look at the ceiling, and he doesn't say anything, just comes to the mat you've always sort of shared and lies down, turning his back to you.

 

You don't expect to find this disappointing. You tell yourself you don't, but for some reason you lie awake for hours, and all you want to do is touch him.

 

It's definitely waking up in the morning that's the hard part, though. You did fall asleep eventually, if only in pursuit of numbness. And even though he went to sleep with his back to you, when you wake, you're looking right at his stupid sleeping face. His lips are parted, one hand cushioning his cheek.

 

You can't help but see how tired he is.

 

He's drained.

 

He's not like you; he's a perfectionist, and yet completely lacking in the ability and inclination to hide his own flaws.

 

You're not like him. You know how to conceal things, and you do, and you do it well. But it also grates on you that he's always so honest. The way he wears his flaws on his sleeve makes you feel like you're dirty. And as you study the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and notice the contrast between his obvious fatigue and his soft sleeping smile, you feel an unexpected stirring in your chest.

 

You're a little disgusted with yourself, and get up and shower immediately. Then, somehow, you get through the day like nothing even happened. You're impressed with yourself, and sort of annoyed by the fact that no one knows just how awesome you are at pretending everything is normal.

 

By the end of the day, you're beginning to realise that this is hard work. Everything _is_  normal for everyone else. Even Yongguk is just...just...fine. He seems fine. He just keeps on smiling and answering interview questions with irritating sincerity and by the time you all go have dinner with the manager-hyungs you think you may go mad and throw his jjigae in his face for being so okay.

 

You go home. Take your time in the bathroom after Yongguk finishes, trying to cool your boots. When you get back to your room, Yongguk is there, lying on his stomach, humming to himself as he composes a new song.

 

He looks up over his shoulder as you hover by the door, and your stomach does a loop the loop when he smiles. But you can't. You just...can't.

 

'Channie...'

 

You shake your head and look at the floor, and he retreats into his lyric book.

 

That night, you don't sleep.

 

You spend the best part of four hours watching his back. He rolls over at 3:23.

  
  


They're three very long days.

 

You spend them like you'd spend any others, except for the silence that has dropped like a veil between you and Yongguk.

 

You think Junhong might have noticed, because and Yongguk have always been pretty close, but he starts sticking closer than ever to his eldest hyung's side, and every now and then he'll look at you with curiosity. Luckily, you all have schedules from hell, and in the midst of all the crazy the other three notice nothing.

 

It’s Yongguk who breaks the silence.

 

You’re trying to walk past him into your room. You’ve just showered and you are so ready to sleep, because the past three nights of lying awake watching him are really starting to take their toll on your ability to function.

 

But he doesn’t move. He stands right in the doorway.

 

You move right, thinking to walk past him, and he steps to his left.

 

You move left, he steps right.

 

‘Himchan,’ says Yongguk, his baritone soft and low, ‘stop avoiding me.’

 

Annoyed, you look up. You’re planning to say I’m not avoiding you, which is both your instinctive response, for the sake of being contrary, and an outright lie. But then your eyes meet, and Yongguk looks so sad that the ice around your heart cracks and splinters. The words die in your mouth, and you end up saying, ‘I don’t know what you want from me.’

 

He looks surprised by this, and, if anything, a little sadder.

 

You feel like you’ve kicked a puppy.

 

You flounder for a moment, and then you can hear someone doing something in the kitchen, so you push him backwards into your room and close the door behind you. He doesn’t resist. The shadows under his eyes make them look bigger.

 

‘I didn’t ask for anything,’ he says, after a moment, and now he’s the one avoiding eye contact.

 

‘Fuck you,’ you say, your temper flaring. You go on a little stroll around the room to purge yourself of a sudden spike of aggression. He watches you, edgy now, both of you warring with your instincts. You get on top of them first, though, and turn back to him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back against the wall. He’s tense; not sure what to expect, but fight has won out over flight, and he glares back at you, defensive and defiant.

 

There’s a long silence, but the fire in his eyes is a naked flame to the bed of kindling he’s already laid in you, and it’s like it just ignites. Suddenly, you think you understand what's wrong. He won’t do it -- he won’t tell you what he wants. He tied you up and turned it into a game because he didn't know, or wasn't able, to do what a normal person would do and admit he wanted something.

 

And in that incredibly unhealthy way, he took the first big step, but it was like jumping off a cliff-edge, and he scared himself.

 

Now, as you look into his angry, sad eyes, you realise that actually he wants you, maybe even needs you, and has no idea how to ask.

 

You're going to have to _tell_ him.

 

Which is hard. It means you have to man up. But you'd better just fucking do it, because Yongguk is in an agony of indecision right now.

 

So you raise your hand and draw the pad of your thumb over his lips.

 

‘Hyung,’ you say, ‘you're mine.’

 

His lip trembles as the fight leaves him. He goes weak -- they call this shit swooning in romance novels, don't they? Doesn't matter. He slumps against the wall, and your hand on his shoulder is all that's holding him up. He turns his face away from your hand, but he nods and smiles a tiny smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated :)


End file.
